


half enough

by boundasbreathing



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blow Jobs, Con Artists, F/M, M/M, Mentions of Emotional Abuse, Oral Sex, Sibling Incest, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24902287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boundasbreathing/pseuds/boundasbreathing
Summary: when sam left behind the life of crime he'd been born into, that meant leaving behind the brother he loved and the father he didn't, too.after nearly four years of college, sam's a different man now, he has a different life.when dean shows up on his doorstep unanounced one night, however, to drop the bombshell that their dad has months - if not weeks - to live, sam begins to wonder just how much has changed in the time he's been away.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	1. knock knock

it was just an ordinary night. sam and jess had ordered a veggie pizza to share, and were binging the first season of how to get away with murder. jess had her fluffy-socked feet resting comfortably in sam's lap, the pizza on her thighs, her long blonde hair tied into a knot on top of her head. sam was sat cradling a bowl of popcorn to his chest, with his own bare feet propped up on the coffee table in front of them. 

the night itself was just like any other. in fact, the entire day had been perfectly mundane for the both of them. sam's body clock had woken him up at six as per the norm, so he'd brushed his teeth, gotten dressed and headed to the on-campus gym. when he'd gotten home an hour and a half later, jess was up and making pancakes in the kitchen so he gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek before showering and dressing for the day ahead. they'd eaten their pancakes and shared their plans for the day before jess went to shower herself, and sam set off for his eight twenty-five lecture on criminal procedure.

when he got back, jess was at a lecture of her own, so he got to work on an essay due for the next week while he had their appartment to himself. when jess got home she suggested pizza and netflix and sam agreed, which led them to chilling out on the sofa, bitching about stuck-up sorority undergrads and professors who patronise them, when there was a knock at the door. they shared a confused look, wondering who it could be visiting so late uninvated, before sam stood up.

he left the popcorn on the coffee table as he passed, and when he peered through the peephole he was glad because he would have dropped it all over the floor upon seeing the man stood on the other side of the door.

"dean..." sam breathed, taking an unconscious step back as he opened the door.

"hey, sam." 

sam stood and stared at him for a moment, before he felt something brush his side. he managed to tear his eyes away from dean long enough to see that jess had appeared next to him. she looked quizzically between sam and dean, before fixing sam with a confused look. she placed her hand on sam's bicep and forced a smile.

"who's this?"

sam shook himself out of his reverie and shifted his stance. "this is dean, he's my..."

sam didn't know what to say next, how could he possibly explain what he and dean were. he must have been quiet for too long because dean extended a hand and a smile to jess saying, "i'm his brother."

"brother?" jess said surprised, looking at sam with a raised eyebrow, but with that polite smile still plastered on her face. "sam never mentioned a brother?"

sam hadn't mentioned any of his relatives. in fact, jess was under the impression he was a complete orphan - the uncle who had raised him having died just as he'd started college. it was a macabre lie, one sam hated, made guilt rise in his throat burning acidic as bile. 

but it was necessary. 

coming to stanford had been his way of escaping the life. he'd been raised to be a con artist ever since the death of his mother. he was never quite as sly as dean, nor as streetwise and subtle, but he was book-smart and that worked just as well. and together, well, they made quite the pair. in more ways than one. 

leaving dean had been the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, but he could see through their dad's bullshit to the truth behind that meant if he didn't get out of the life then and there, he never would, and it was only a matter of time before they got caught. he'd begged dean to come with him, had researched mechanic vacancies in the area, factory work as a last resort - just until they both landed on their feet. he'd planned a life for them both, a way for them both to escape.

but dean had gotten caught up in a job when sam had to leave. it all came to blows that night with sam begging dean to come with him, and dean asking him to stay. in the end, dean couldn't leave and there was nothing left for sam to stay for. 

it was easier to erase his brother. his mom was dead, that wasn't a lie, and he'd wished a fate worse than that on his dad many a time. but to kill dean, even as a cover, he couldn't do it. better to erase his brother entirely. it meant no awkward questions, no explaining how they had been more than brothers. if dean didn't exist there was nothing to feel guilty about. if dean didn't exist, there was no one to miss.

not that sam didn't ache for dean for weeks when he first arrived at stanford. every damn day he considered calling, considered begging dean to reconsider leaving their old life behind and running away with sam. but he couldn't. he had to leave everything behind him, and that had to include dean if he wanted to get out of the life for good.

and now here he was, stood at sam's front door, looking at sam with the same look in his eye as four years ago. all sam can do is stare back because _dean_. he's here - the first boy sam kissed, the first boy sam loved, the first boy sam made love to. stood in the doorway to the apartment he doesn't-officially-but-might-as-well share with his girlfriend.

he's been silent for too long and they all know it, but luckily dean, who was always quicker on his feet, manages to bridge the gap. "we had a fight before he left for stanford, we haven't spoken since." even as dean talks to jess he's looking sam dead in the eyes. 

"oh," jess says from beside sam, looking between them. "well i guess i'll leave you guys to it."

jess squeezes sam's bicep and places a delicate kiss to his cheek as she walks back into the apartment, and sam swears he sees dean flinch. sam really has no reason to feel guilty but he does anyway. he steps out into the hall closing the door behind him, letting it close with a soft click before he turns back to dean.

"dean, what are you doing here?" sam demands.

"she's pretty. your girlfriend?" deam asks, ignoring sam's question. 

"dean!" sam implores in a hiss. "what the hell are you doing here?"

dean looks at him a minute and rubs his thumb slowly back and forth across his bottom lip. "alright, alright." he squeezes his eyes closed and when he opens them again he looks completely distraught. "dad's not well." dean laughs bitterly. "shit, dad's dying. we've been told weeks, a few months if we're lucky."

sam nods. says nothing. stares at this near-stranger stood on his doorstep in the middle of the night.

dean's eyebrows crease. "what, that's it? i tell you our father is going to die and you just nod?"

sam wants to tell him that this is the best news he's heard all week, wants to tell him that he's spent the last four years wishing their father was dead - hell, longer than that. he wants to tell him that there's nothing left about his old life that he cares for anymore. he wants to tell him that dad's always been dying, ever since mom did, that there was part of him that went with her. he wants to tell him that with the amount john winchester drank, and for the length of time he did, he's probably lucky that he's made it this long, actually.

instead he asks again, "what are you doing here, dean."

dean takes a step back at that, like sam hit him, and that look in his eyes is gone in a flicker. good, sam thinks, thank god. it was that look that got them in trouble in the first place. that look like he'd hung the moon, so full of adoration and care well beyond that of a normal brother. sam was never going to be able to resist that look. it's maybe better, then, that dean hates him.

"dad is dying," dean repeats, as though sam didn't understand him the first two times. "i'm here to take you home so you can say goodbye like a decent fucking person."

sam stares at him, unmoved. home. what a joke. they never had a home, just a series of shitty rented houses and even shittier motel rooms. when they'd go stay at bobby's, sure, then maybe they had somewhere that wasn't gonna get them killed, but it still wasn't safety. it still was just a house. what the fuck does he even mean, home? 

"i said goodbye a long time ago, dean," sam counters.

_you should have too_ , he wants to add. _you should have gotten out, because however i felt about you, however i feel about you, you were always far too good for the shitty life we led. too smart, too beautiful, and you could've had the world, dean. you could've had whatever you wanted. you could've had me. but you didn't. i got out, and you didn't._

"does family mean nothing to you anymore, huh, mr stanford? you've got your fancy college and your pretty girlfriend, and your pretentious fucking friends, so now the rest of us are beneath you? huh? the rest of us don't mean shit to you anymore?" dean's angry, sam can tell by the tension in his shoulders, the sharpness of his words, the way his voice is rising.

sam doesn't want dean shouting, doesn't want jess or his neighbours to hear this conversation. hell, he doesn't want to hear this conversation. he wants to go back to pizza, and netflix, and the woman he loves, and forget all about his miserable past. he wants to forget dean once and for all, and all those wretched feelings, and all those wrong things they did.

"yes," sam eventually replies, in the hopes it'll get dean off his doorstep and back out of his life. "yes, i have this life now, and i've worked hard for it, but all those things i did to get here don't mean anything to me now."

dean tenses, clearly understanding that that means him, too. and maybe that’s not entirely the truth, because if dean really did mean nothing to him anymore then there wouldn’t be a sick feeling in his stomach that was a little bit dread, a little bit guilt, but mostly regret. and if dean meant nothing, then that sad, lost-puppy look in his eyes wouldn’t be squeezing sam’s heart like a vice. but he has to try and believe it into existence, otherwise he really won’t be able to move on.

“fine,” dean sighs with a rueful shake of his head. “that’s just fine. you stay here with your perfect life and forget all about the family you’re leaving behind. i just hope one day you wake up and realise you have a long list of things you never got to say, and i hope the regret eats you alive.” 

it’s the cruellest thing dean’s ever said to him, but maybe that’s for the best. at least this way they can both draw a line under what happened between them. sam did, a long time ago. three years, seven months and a hundred and ninety-five days ago, not that he’s counting.

dean stands there a moment longer and stares at him with that same puppy dog expression, hurt in his eyes and a deep-set frown on his face. eventually he shakes his head, turns around and walks away. when sammy left that day, crawling out from under his brother’s heat in the cramped bed they were sharing in a shitty motel down in new mexico, he hadn’t looked back. but dean does, now, and maybe that says all it needs to about their relationship. he turns half way, but that’s enough. shoots a last pleading glance at sam then all but deflates when he finds his brother unmoved. then he turns around for good and walks out of his life the way sam did four years, and a lifetime, ago. 


	2. friend daniel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags have been updated. please check before proceeding.

sam spends the next three days avoiding jess’ inevitable, incessant questioning about the mysterious brother that seemingly appeared out of nowhere, before disappearing back into the night. she keeps asking if they fought again, if that’s why he left, but sam simply refuses to answer. if he tells the truth, he’ll only end up caught out on a lie anyway. 

he finds it’s better to say nothing, and when he can't say nothing he avoids jess altogether. he spends his time in the gym, in the library, in his own apartment, at work. anywhere where he can be alone. he tells himself he just needs the space to think, but thinking is doing him no good whatsoever, because thinking keeps bringing him back to dean.

he keeps replaying the night he left. sam knew it would be their last together, but dean didn't, and he wonders if he might've acted differently if he had. would he have held sam that little bit tighter, would he have kissed with that little more rigour, would he have been twice as desperate to never let go, because sam did, was. he'd spent weeks arranging his life in stanford right under his dad and brother's noses - funding, accommodation, school, everything. he'd spent days dropping hints for dean about what life might be like for them both if they were to leave, but his brother - who had never been dense a day in his life - couldn't read a single one of his signs. that night he'd finally made clear what he'd spent so long trying to show him.

_"please, dean, we can get away. there are garages or factories where you can work, and i've found an apartment block that wouldn't be miles outside of our budget if we scrimped, and i got a job in the evenings. we can do this, dean!"_

_"what, and leave everything behind? the jobs, our lives, bobby, dad?"_

_"we don't need them! we don't need any of it. bobby would understand, and we could have a better life without-"_

_"he's still our dad! he needs us, and we need him!"_

_"we don't-"_

_"i mean, when would we even be going?"_

_"soon. very soon."_

_"so in the middle of a job?"_

_"dean, c'mon-"_

_"no, sam, we can't. i'm sorry, but we can't. these are our lives, this is our family. we can't leave."_

jess says that sam's moping, keeps trying to prod and poke at why. she's fixated on the idea that if he just spoke to dean about whatever it is they fought about, they'd both feel a lot better. sam does his best not to roll his eyes at her ignorance because, after all, that's not her fault. but she's so beautifully naive, so convinced that the world could be good and just if only we all got along. she hasn't seen the things sam's seen, hasn't lived the life he's lived, doesn't know the first thing about the realities of sam's situation. and that's not her fault, either. in fact, sam envies her of that. envies the innocence he never got. that doesn't he can't still find it grating.

jess does manage to drag him out friday night, however, because an old friend from high school is in town, apparently, and she wants to introduce them. sam, reluctantly, gets dressed up in a nice shirt and his best jeans, then meets jess at a bar off-campus. she looks beautiful in an ankle length silky skirt, and white t-shirt, and he tells her as much, which she blushes at the way she does every time. for one crushing moment that enticing blush, deep and high on the apples of her cheeks, reminds him of dean. he squashes the thought before it can even develop and follows jess into the bar.

she immediately walks over to a guy sat alone at the other end of the bar. he's relatively tall, shorter than sam but probably still at least 6 foot. he has similar sandy brown hair, but it's shorter, a messy nest on his head. when they finally reach him, and he stands to give jess a hug in greeting, sam notices he has similar hazel eyes, maybe slightly darker than his own. he smiles at sam as jess introduces them, offering a hand, and as he does sam notices he has dimples, too.

"daniel," he greets. "jess's told me a lot about you, it's great to meet you finally."

"likewise," sam responds, trying to sound sincere.

jess turns to him with a grin on her face. "why don't i grab us all a beer while you guys go grab us a table?"

"great," daniel agreea, then gestures with a hand towards the seating area. "after you, my good sir."

sam smiles, but it's half-hearted at best. he leads daniel over to a table in the corner of the bar where the music is quietest and the strobe effect is least noticeable. he really isn't in the mood for a night out, not when he can't keep his mind off his brother for five seconds. he hates dean for it. hates that he'd been fine, he'd moved on, hadn't thought at all about what had gone on between them while he'd been at stanford, but with one meeting he's right back to thinking of nothing but his brother. 

"so, what do you do?" sam asks as he and daniel sit down at the table.

daniel smiles at him, then looks down at his hands. "i guess jess hasn't told you why i'm here, then." sam frowns at him, shakes his head, and looks over at jess who's showing her ID to the barman. "i'm a grief councillor." sam's breath catches at that. did jess hear he and dean talking, then? how much does she know? had they been obvious? "jess told me that you're an orphan, and that your brother recently came back into your life. she says you won't talk about it."

"i'm just trying to process, i guess," sam lies, careful not to grit his teeth.

daniel nods, eyebrows knitted together. "okay. how do you feel about dean being back?"

"you charging by the hour?" sam jokes, feeling uncomfortable, desperate to avoid the conversation.

daniel has the decency to smile at that. "no, i'm just doing a friend a favour." daniel taps the table with his knuckle twice, watching the impact, before looking back up at sam. "you know, the reason i started doing this job was because i lost my dad. now, he was a piece of work. abused me and my mom. emotionally, that is. he always made us feel like we weren't good enough, like we had to be better. when we pointed this out to him, he would gas-light us, make us think we were crazy. he was good at it, too." daniel swallows thickly. "when he died i thought i'd be relieved. good riddance to the old bastard, you know? except, i realised i had all these things i wanted to say to him, wanted to prove to him that i had always been enough. it drove me mad that i never could. i went off the rails a bit, took a good friend of mine to sort me back out. now i try and work with others who're going through something similar."

"dean's not dead," sam points out, tersely.

"no," daniel acquiesces, "but the principal still applies. jess seems to think you're angry at him about something. i don't know if that's justified, it doesn't matter. what matters is that he's all the family you've got left, and often when it comes to family we regret all the things we didn't say far more than all the things we did."

at this point jess arrives with their drinks, and she and daniel launch into a conversation about some kid they'd both known at school. sam isn't paying any kind of attention, though. instead he's considering what daniel had said - how dean had said almost the same thing - about regretting the things he'd never said. because he has a lot to say.

his dad (whenever he deigned to pay attention to anything other than the next job, the next scam) had spent pretty much the entirety of sam' formative years telling him he was weak, he was useless - that he was thick as pig shit was one of his dad's favourite digs to throw, usually three beers deep, and only ever when there was someone else there to hear it. dean, for the most part, had spent his own formative years making sure sam didn't believe a word of it. he'd tell him he was brilliant, strong, and when sam was older, when their relationship started pushing the bounds of brotherly affection, he started trying to love away any pain. long trailing kisses across his face, neck, chest, holding him close and whispering in his ear how wonderful he was, how much dean loved him, how much of an idiot their dad had to be not to see how incredible sam was.

much as sam enjoyed the attention, especially in the latter years, dean really needn't have bothered. sam was maybe eleven the last time his dad ever said something about him that got under his skin. he'd simply stopped caring after that. the only thing that ever really pissed him off was how he was never allowed to do any of the heavy lifting. even as he reached and surpassed ages where dean had all but been a partner in crime even on the big jobs, sam was still left to cheap pick-pocketing jobs, or acting as lookout. he probably should've been thankful because he meant he had more time to study, but for his dad to patronise him about not being strong enough, and then never giving him an opportunity to prove he could be, that was just bullshit, plain and simple.

he's proven his dad wrong, though, eventually. he was strong enough to walk away, wasn't he? strong enough to leave behind he only life he'd ever known along with the man he loved, strong enough to walk out without so much as a backward glance. he'd been book smart enough to get into stanford, and street smart enough to blag he way to scholarships and grants enough to keep himself there. useless? maybe. maybe he never was any good at doing jobs - not like dean, anyway, for whom it all seemed like second nature. but he makes his girlfriend smile, and he's always available to help a friend, and he's managed to carve from nothing a life that made him happy. and really, what more use could a man have?

as he sits on jess' bed that night supposedly undressing for a shower, though he's managed the buttons on his shirt and noting else, it hits him just how much he wants to rub this all in his dad's face - the college, the girl, his _pretentious fucking friends_. show john winchester that in spite of his stellar goddamn parenting, sam is really making something of his life, and he's a mostly functional adult to boot. and if this is the only way, the last chance even, to do so, then maybe a trip home (sam still isn't sure what the fuck that even meant) is just what he needs. dean had been right, the regret really will eat him alive otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading. feel free to leave a comment about what you thought and/or what you think will/should happen next.
> 
> again, please don't expect regular updates because time is finite (as is my patience) and i'm not sure i even fully know where i want to take this story yet.


	3. prodigal son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags have been updated, please double check before continuing x

jess pushes herself further into his personal space, there's barely an inch of space between them. her hands trail up his arms, over his shoulders, tangle in his hair. she mouths at his jawline, nose brushing his earlobe as she kisses her way up. sam closes his eyes against the pleasure of it, the feel of her in his arms.

"fuck me," she breaths - begs - hotly into his ear. he squeezes her hips where his hands have fallen, pulling her impossibly closer. "c'mon, baby, fuck me."

his hands move down her hips to the hem of her skirt, then disappear upwards. she's not wearing any panties. sam growls at that, turns his head to catch her lips with his. she keens into his mouth as he moves his hand further, strokes at her lips with his fingertips, teasing at penetration.

suddenly she's pushing him away and he's falling backwards onto their bed. he hadn't even noticed it before. he shuffles backwards, towards the soft pillows, captivated as she slips out of her skirt and tugs her t-shirt over her head. it falls to the floor as she reaches behind herself to unclasp her bra, and let it join the shirt on the floor. she crawls towards sam on the bed then, an almost predatory look in her eye. 

she stops at sam's crotch, traces the visible outline of his erection through his jeans with a delicate hands. sam huffs in a laborious breath as she presses hot, open mouthed kisses against it until a wet patch forms on the denim. only then does she gently undo the button, pull down the zipper excruciatingly slowly, and start tugging the jeans and his boxers down sam's legs. he lifts his hips to aid her, but she goes no further than his thighs before moving back up to his cock. it's hard against his stomach, long and bent slightly to the left.

jess grins up at him, taking him in hand as carefully as she can. she blows softly against his tip causing him to buck up his hips. she presses her answering laugh into kisses against his length, and sam can't help the low grumble in his throat at how good that feels. his nerves are already on fire, so when she finally stops teasing and presses the tip inside her soft, warm mouth, sam's groan as he presses his head back into the pillows is inevitable. 

he scrunches up his eyes in pleasure as she starts bobbing her head, taking him further and further every time she goes. sam groans again as she finally goes deep enough for the tip to brush the back of her throat, and as she hums around him, he can't help but tighten his grip on the sheets.

"god, baby," sam huffs, trying to get a hold of his breathing.

she pulls off and says in a voice that is familiar, but distinctly not her own, "yeah, you like that baby?" sam looks down with a start and sees his brother's love-filled, lust-blown green eyes staring back up at him, glistening with the amusement that's written all over his face. "i've always known what made you tick."

sam jolts awake suddenly, and looks around him. no one on the bus is looking at him, so he must not have made any noise. still, he tries to shift surreptitiously in his seat, aware that the hard-on has followed him out of the dream. he tries hard not to think if it was jess who was the cause, or dean. 

he thinks of all the things he used to when he was a young, dumb, sexually repressed teenager - dead puppies, difficult algebra equations, bobby naked - and hopes that by the time they reach his stop he'll be soft enough to get off the bus without drawing any unwanted, or unnecessary attention to himself. he checks his watch and sees that, if they're not running late, he should reach salado in little under ten minutes. sam didn't recognise the address dean had given him when he'd called a week prior so it must have been a new hovel he and their father were staying at. 

it had been a nearly four hour flight from california to austin, and now an hour long bus journey from austin to salado. the bus actually terminated in waco and was the only one at the dispatch centre that stopped where he needed to be, so he had to be sure to get off at the right place because there wasn't a return journey through salado for another four days. he didn't want to be trapped in texas for four days with no way of either getting back to stanford or finding dean and their dad.

he'd called dean the night he'd spoken to daniel, not even surprised he still remembered the number for dean's burner phone. it also wasn't a surprise that even though he tried to, he couldn't remember the number for their dad's. dean had picked up on the third ring, a suspicious tint to his tone as he said hello.

the conversation had been brief - sam asking for an address so he could say goodbye, dean telling him he'd made the right decision. there was a pause where sam was sure dean wanted to say something else, so he quickly said that he'd be there in a week and hung up. his brother's mouth was always prone to getting him into trouble. 

he'd made some excuse to jess about a legal conference out of state which one of his professors had told him about. he wasn't sure why he didn't just tell her the truth, or some of it, anyway. she probably would've been thrilled that sam was taking her cue to repair his relationship with dean, hell, she probably would've booked his flights! but this; dean, their dad, some doubtless shabby motel in a tourist town in texas - it felt like something sam needed to deal with by himself.

the bus pulled up at a rest area just outside the city, and the driver called for anyone departing in salado to go now. sam and an old couple were the only ones who stood up. the woman's mobility was poor, so sam was stuck stood behind them both for a some time as she tried to side-step into the aisle and use the seats as support while she made her way to the front of the bus. it was enough time for sam to peer out of the window and see his brother waiting outside, leaning casual as anything against their dad's old impala. sam had to swallow hard against the bitter taste in his throat at how little ever really changed in his brother's life.

eventually both sam and the couple made it off the bus. they were both incredibly apologetic at having caused any delay, but were insistent upon divulging the last three years of the poor woman's medical history to him before he was allowed to say his goodbyes. he had to take a moment to breathe and prepare himself before he made his way over to his brother who had been watching the exchange with nothing short of amusement in his eyes.

"took your time," dean teases. sam just shoots him a deadpan glare which has dean laughing. "come on, boy scout, get in," he huffs, jerking his head in the direction of the car, and turning to climb in himself. sam huffs, walks around to the passenger side and climbs in, stuffing his duffel full of clothes by his feet. dean checks the rearview mirror as sam clicks his seatbelt into place and asks, "no girlfriend?"

"busy," sam lies, picking at a piece of flint on his jeans so as to not have to meet his brother's eye. dean hums and turns the key in the ignition. an old black sabbath song blares through the speaker which sam flinches at, and he reaches for the dial to turn it down. "really?" sam asks with a frown as dean turns off from the rest area onto the main road. "you've not updated your music collection?"

"if you want something else it's in there," dean replies, gesturing at the glove compartment with one hand. 

sam sighs and does as instructed, opening the glove compartment and finding a small basket of cassettes inside. "really?" sam asks again, pulling one out and furrowing his brows.

"it's nostalgic, sammy," dean says with a grin. "kids these days love it!"

sam sighs, puts the cassettes away, and squeezes his eyes shut against the headache he can feel approaching. he couldn't wait for this trip to be over with so he could just go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know if you think i need to change the rating / update any more tags.
> 
> thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading. feel free to tell me what you thought, and if you've got any ideas about what comes next, lemme know. 
> 
> please don't expect regular updates because i tend to write, like, ten thousand words in three days, and then nothing for four months. i'm going to try and keep working on this, though.


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